


Shot Through the Heart

by Hijackedvictor



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 23:07:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5351801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hijackedvictor/pseuds/Hijackedvictor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Katniss takes Peeta hunting</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shot Through the Heart

“Good Morning, what can I get you started off with today?” the waitress with short blonde hair and award winning blue eyes asks me in her generic, preppy waitress voice. Dear Lord, how long has she had that piece of spinach between her teeth, it’s six o’clock in the morning. What did she have for breakfast?

“Yeah, I’ll just get a coffee.” I say, sliding the money across in exchange for a cup, which I fill at the station across from the cashier before heading to a booth in the back. 

Although coffee isn’t my drink of choice, I need something to wake me up. Gale planned this weekend-long hunting trip and we’re supposed to meet at his place in an hour. I’m definitely going to need something more than coffee to last this weekend.

I lay my head on the cool table in my booth and simply focus on my breathing. Even this simple task is difficult to do because there is an annoying high-pitched laughter coming from my left. Trying to ignore the laugh that can pierce through walls is pointless so I give the death glare at couple sitting a couple tables away from me. I don’t get much of a look but I see one blonde, curly haired boy and a girl with a much brighter blonde, almost yellow colored hair. Who the fuck goes on a date at six in the morning? I don’t know what’s got me so crabby today but I want to strangle that girl with her laugh.

About ten minutes later-and eight thousand ways I have imagined this girl’s death-we make eye contact. I know her. I haven’t seen her years, she’s skinnier, and her hair is in a braid instead of curls. What was her name? Dale? Kelly?? Crap, she recognizes me. Oh no, she’s waving. Dear God, she’s walking over here. Shit. I try to fix myself up because I’m a mess, wearing my stained flannel shirt and my dad’s old leather jacket. There’s also a tear in my pants in the crotch area. My hair is in the same braid it was in yesterday morning, which equals Frizz Central. Thank goodness her boyfriend isn’t coming because I can barely handle one person, let alone Kelly. I think he ran to the bathroom.

“Oh my God! Katniss? Katniss Everdeen? It’s me! Delly!”

Delly! Of course, well I was close. 

She looks even better now that she’s taken a seat right in front of me. Her braid is perfect compared to mine, and she’s wearing a flirty dress that flows when she sits down. It has a blue floral pattern on a white background, which truly bring out the green in her eyes. She has a short jean vest that compliments the dress very well and a couple of bracelets, a necklace with a “D” on it, and dangly earrings. Her face is left natural which is a small relief. 

She’s probably all dolled up for her man because last I remember her she had no color in her face, her body was disproportionate, and her hair looked extremely yellow and unhealthy.

“Girl, it’s been like six years-”

“It’s been four.” I interrupt curtly.

“Oh, well, it feels like a lot longer than that! How’ve you been? What have you been up to? Life after high school is crazy right?” I can feel her excitement and I don’t know why, we were never friends. The most we have ever said to each other was “sorry” after bumping into each other in the hallway.

“Um, well I haven’t really-” I stop because at the corner of my eye I see him. The boy Kel-Delly is with.

Oh no, not him. Anybody but him. 

Delly follows my gaze and understands why I stopped. “Oh hey, you remember Peeta, don’t you?” 

Of course I remember Peeta and immediately I’m thrown back into the woods.

It’s toward the end of fall and winter is going to start in a few weeks. The trees have shed all their leaves to show the bare bark of these huge pine trees. The ground is covered in an aray of the colored leaves, changing from red to light green to an almost sunset orange.

“Peeta! You have to keep the muzzle on the floor if you’re not aiming at anything! And for the love of God, keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot! Did you learn nothing at your gun safety class?”

I can’t believe this boy talked me into giving him hunting lessons. But he did say he would teach me how to bake these little bread rolls with cheese on them, which now I’m second-guessing. I can just Google that shit. Oh great, now he’s laughing at me. 

I rub my temple to try and get a grip with this child, “Look, Peeta, hunting can be a fun time but you need to understand it’s not a game.”

“Yeah, I get that, it’s just-” and he lets out one small laugh.

“What?” At this point I’m not even trying to hide my irritation.

“Okay, it’s just, when you get mad, well, you sorta do this weird twitch with you mouth. Like when you’re about the yell, the left corner of your mouth will just jerk up,” He lets out another laugh. “It’s just cute is all.”

Cute? Did he just call me cute? Well that’s a new adjective no one has used to describe me before. I can feel blood rushing to my cheeks. It’s probably nothing but I can feel the sensation of feelings spasm throughout my body.

I clear my throat and ignore what he just said, “Okay, well, um, the best thing to do at this point is to walk, quietly, around and hopefully find something to shoot. We’re, ahem, looking for turkey today.” Thanksgiving is coming up and Prim, my sister, always loves when I bring home fresh wild turkey.

We continue walking aimlessly through the forest quietly, or rather I was soundless while Peeta was stomping on every crunchy leaf he could find.

I turn to him and say, “Okay, hah, I’m going to need you to not do that.”

“Do what?” He has this face as if he doesn’t know he’s scaring every rabbit in a one-mile radius.

“Stop stepping on all the leaves. I know they look like a good time but honestly no animal is going to come near us if you keep doing that.”

I feel a little bad when all Peeta lets out is an “I’m sorry.” I can tell this isn’t the fun hunting trip he imagined. But I don’t know what to tell him, it’s roughly the same when I go hunting with Gale, except by now we would’ve caught at least a quail. 

“Maybe it’ll be best if we split up for a little bit,” I know this is an awful idea but I really need to kill something and, unfortunately Peeta’s not an option. “How about you go search over there to the left, but don’t go too far, Peeta. Make sure to stay within yelling distance, if you do get out of reach you have my phone number but it’s only for emergencies.”

Peeta nods his head, he does look disappointed but he understands.

Already in twenty minutes Peeta’s absence makes a huge difference and I’m about fifteen feet away from a full-grown buck. He’s beautiful, golden brown hair that shimmers slightly in the sun. His antlers could reach the sky with it’s many fingers branching in all directions. I quietly take out an arrow from my quiver and balance it on the notch on my bow, I take a deep breath and pull the bow up and the string right behind the curve of my mouth. I let out the air I was a holding and focus through my sights, aiming for the eye. I take in one last breath and let it fly.

What I hear next isn’t the sound of a thud of a 200lb deer but a very loud and painful scream that sends shivers down my spine. I can hear the gallops of the buck running away but everything is moving so slowly I’m not sure what is reality and what is a horrible nightmare.

I just shot Peeta Mellark.

I rush to his aid; he’s lying on the grass-covered ground clutching his right shoulder. Since the arrow is still lodged straight in the center of his shoulder, there isn’t too much blood but it’s still slowly seeping out.

“YOU FUCKING SHOT ME!” He screams this so loud. I didn’t even know he could yell, he just always seemed so calm and put together. Well, not now. 

He tries to pull the arrow out but I stop him. “No, don’t do that, you’ll just open up the wound and it’ll make it harder to patch it up.” 

Oh man, I don’t even know how far away we are from the truck. What am I suppose to do?  
“Well, I’m not jus-” he sucks in a sharp breath as he lets go of the shaft of the arrow, “leave it in. What the fuck are we suppose to do?!” He looks at me with those watery blue eyes as if I have a solution. 

Oh man, oh man, oh man, what am I going to do? Oh fuck, what even happened? Why was Peeta so close to the deer?

“What were you doing? How did this happen? Why were you even there?”

“You’re asking me questions right now?? I should be asking you why the hell you shot me?!” 

Oh, he’s right. Okay, we can figure this out.

“Okay, um, can you maybe stand up?” I don’t know how I sound so calm, inside I feel like I’m the one with an arrow through the chest.

Peeta groans and takes so many short breaths but he manages to stand up, with my help, of course.

“Okay, okay, good. You’re doing great. Now lets see if we can walk,” Peeta takes a small step and I can fully see the injury and I gag. 

“What? Is it that bad? God, Katniss it hurts like a motherfucker,” and it should, it went right through his shoulder and the arrow, dripping with blood, came straight through on the other side. 

“No, no it’s fine, it’ll be alright,” I lie because I honestly don’t understand how he can even stand at this point. My right arm wraps around to his right side and I clutch my left hand on his arm as I lead him back to my car, which seems to be the best way to help him.

Slowly and painfully we make it back to my truck. It took us two hours, four times as long, and I can see streaks down Peeta’s face where he’s obviously been crying. I can’t believe I did this to him.

“Alright, the nearest hospital is about an hour and a half away. How are you going to get in the car?” The problem is, since the arrow went straight through and is sticking out of his back, there is no way he can comfortable sit in my car. I feel the best option would be to take out the arrow, hold a bandage to it and get in the car. But he’ll lose a lot of blood that way before we even get to the hospital.

“Here, lets try this,” he gets in the passenger seat and starts sitting in an awkward position. He has his head resting on the side of the drivers head-rest so his shoulder is in between the gap of the two seats, he has left hand supported on the island, his right arm has carefully not moved and lays limp on his torso. His hips and legs are more lying down on the seat. 

“Are you comfortable like that?” I ask as I see a fresh set of tears flow down his cheeks. That cannot be comfortable.

“It’s fine. Can we maybe please just focus on taking me to the emergency room so I can get this out of me?” 

With that said, I rush to the divers seat and turn on the car and speed away to the nearest road. I turn on my hazard lights to signal other drivers and police that this is, in fact, an emergency. It works because we make it to the hospital within an hour. I help Peeta out of the truck and inside the ER room where they rush him to surgery. I’m stuck in the waiting room, filling out papers, and wondering if he’ll be okay.

Another two hours go by before I hear anything from the doctors.

“Hey, Katniss,” he says this with an awkward smile but he looks so much better. He’s wearing a red and black plaid shirt so I’m not sure if he still has his bandage on. It has been two months so I doubt if it’s fully healed.

“Um. Hi. Peeta.” A wave of guilt spreads throughout my body as I look into those blue eyes.

“How’s the uh,” I point to my shoulder.

“Oh you mean the one that you shot?” He lets out a chuckle as if it’s a joke.

“Look, Peeta, I’m so sorry.” I feel awful. 

We haven’t talked since I dropped him off at his apartment from the hospital. I tried gathering the courage to see how he’s doing by calling, messaging through the internet, or even going to go see him. But I just couldn’t face him. I of course went the hospital to help pay for the bills but that’s about all the courage I could muster.

He puts one hand up to stop me, “Don’t even worry about it. It’s doing a lot better. There wasn’t any major damaged done so it should be fully healed in a month or so.”

“Woah woah woah, wait, what?? Yo-you shot him? When did this happen? How did this happen? I’m so confused. And how could you not tell me?” Delly, who I forgot was sitting right in front of me, slaps Peeta on his left arm, carefully avoiding anything that resembles a shoulder. 

Well they can’t be a couple if she didn’t even know he recently had an arrow in his body. That realization oddly makes me feel better.

Peeta lets out a small chuckle as he braces for another attack by Delly. “Yeah, I asked Katniss to teach me how to shoot and she does so by missing a deer and hitting me.” 

I’m sputtering. Words refuse to come out. Is he really blaming me? Well, yeah, it is my fault, but it’s not like I did it on purpose. “Um, I’m pretty sure you got in my way. I never miss.” That’s not true, I miss my shot at least once every hunting trip but he’s getting me a little heated.

“Katniss, I was a good ten feet away from any living being. Do you really think I could get that close to a full-grown buck without getting trampled on? You missed the deer and hit me.” 

I look down at my hands because, although I can’t fully remember what happened, his story makes more sense. But I don’t want to hear it, I know I shot him and I know I probably should’ve visited him in the hospital more often. 

I need to get out of here.

“Well, as much as I love reminiscing of shooting Peeta, I have to go.” I gather my things as Delly goes on about how it was nice to see me and how we should all do something together but we both know that’ll never happen. 

I’m about to unlock my truck door when I hear Peeta calling for me. He’s rushing out the door with his blonde hair bouncing a little.

“You here to give me more crap? Because you’re going to have to take a rain check, I’m late meeting a friend.” It doesn’t seem like Peeta to drag something longer than needed but I’m not going to put up with it any more. 

“What? No, I-” He looks flustered, I’ve never known Peeta to be at a loss of words, but here he is. Then he does something I never saw coming, he places his right hand on my left cheek and stares into my eyes. What kind of blue is that? Baby blue? It’s like looking into the ocean, so many ridges and shapes. They’re so deep; those eyes look like they can go on forever. How can they fit in such a small space? 

This lasts for what feels like forever, yet not long enough, before he starts to lean and I know what he wants so without thinking I push up to meet his lips halfway. Am I really kissing Peeta Mellark? His lips are so soft. He puts his other hand on my hip and pulls me closer so we’re touching. 

My arms wrap around his neck before sliding my right hand so it lies on his chest. 

He pulls away too soon but he’s still really close to my face and we switch from looking into each other’s eyes to our lips. As a smile forms, it’s so boyish and cute, he says, “See, maybe if things went better last time, we could’ve done that,” and before I could hit him or make a defensive remark his lips are on mine again.

We stand there in our embrace for about seven minutes before I hear the clearing of a throat. 

Dammit Delly.

I keep forgetting she’s here. She’s standing in front of the entrance with her arms crossed, hip popped out, and the biggest grin on her face. I push Peeta away so fast, embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable position.

“That’s weird. I thought you had to go Katniss?”   
She lets out a giggle; obviously happy she’s the one who caught us kissing. “I was always rooting for you two kids to get together.” 

Now I’m the one who’s getting all flustered and awkward. I unlock my car and give a wave of goodbye to Delly. I look towards Peeta and pull him in by the collar of his shirt for one more kiss. 

“Call me,” I whisper it quietly where even Delly’s nosy ears can’t hear. 

Peeta whispers in the same volume, “But only for emergencies, right?” He adds a wink that makes my palms sweat and my chest heavy. 

All I say is a pathetic “Okay,” before I get into my car and drive away. 

I’m a mile away before I let out the scream I’ve been holding in for an hour.


End file.
